First Steps and Big Leaps
by EleanorKate
Summary: With full credits for concept and inspiration to TonyAng-Geek (I'm just the executioner!). Some early days of Peter and Chummy's relationship as they embark on their new road. As always with a side order of everyone else!
1. Chapter 1

Poplar for once was looking rather glorious as the late afternoon sun shone down on the cobbles and that warmth in the air that signalled that Summer was firmly on its way and it filled this particular Nurses' hard-working heart and soul with peace.

Trixie smiled as she cycled along the Dock Road letting the rays beat down on her face and the gentle breeze ruffle her hair as she rode, thinking there was just enough time before evening clinic for a refreshing cup of tea and a biscuit or two and a good old fashioned sit down. She was looking forward to the latter particularly as she trundled along, dodging the odd van but by and large it was all in all rather a quiet day as the market traders wound down for the day. Ahead of her, fifty or so yards up, she saw another figure dressed in the self same uniform of grey gabardine and maroon hat, brown hair tucked neatly under and Trixie soon realised she could have company on her trip back.

"Fancy seeing you here!" she smiled as she stopped by Chummy who was buckling up the pack on her bike, turning hearing the comment and grinning widely too at the sudden appearance of her friend. "I must ask, do you come here often?!"

"What ho" Chummy responded, straightening up; pack firmly away and ready to leave for Nonnatus and smiling still at the jokey greeting.

"A delivery?" Trixie asked, really quite sure that when she left to take that parcel to the clinic for Dr Turner, Chummy was still at Nonnatus and she hadn't been gone all that long; even if she had dawdled a bit in the sun on the way back.

"In the loosest terms imaginable!" Chummy replied with a laugh as she took hold of the handlebars of her bicycle. "Seems young Master or Mistress Robinson isn't playing ball the devilish little scamp! I've left poor old Jane's mother with Chloral Hydrate and a tome of instructions!"

"Nothing?" Trixie asked as they began to walk slowly.

"Not a squeak. One rather thinks it all points to a slow labour though. I said someone would pop back in a few hours if they didn't telephone in the meantime" Chummy reported; too now feeling the sun as they walked along. "Baby's tip top and enjoying the peace inside it seems!"

Trixie smiled as they continued to walk, only to be distracted by a sudden wall of noise as they turned the corner on their way up to the main road. A crowd greeted them; probably three or four deep with people craning their necks to see over each other's heads to the source of the fascination and shouting what could well have been encouragement. The Nurses guessed quickly what was going on when they looked up and saw the roughly painted sign hanging precariously over the throng.

"Not another fight!" Trixie exclaimed under her breath as they walked along reluctant both to have to go the long way round just to avoid the crowd. "I don't know why they don't just close that awful pub down!"

"It is rather terrible isn't it?" Chummy agreed, able to see slightly better than Trixie – the advantages of height – as they kept a safe distance. Two men it looked like and they both seemed to be old enough to know better than brawling in the street, but without words to each other, the nurses assumed quite rightly it was down to drink. Peter had mentioned the White Horse once or twice and it didn't seem to be the kind of place she wanted to set foot in and this only served to compound that view. They were just about to ignore it and walk around the crowd when they heard Police whistles that sounded as though they were reverberating from the brick walls around them. Neither could tell the direction the tinny noise was coming from.

"Bout time ve damn cavalry got off vere fat arses an' got 'ere" a clearly disgruntled elderly onlooker standing next to them muttered as the two nurses scanned for any sign of the Police, looking around themselves as were the crowd. A good fight was always a decent afternoon's entertainment; particularly if a rozzer or two got knocked about a bit for his pains and the crowd were not for budging at the prospect of the show.

Sure enough ahead of them two officers ran, one of which she recognised immediately as Peter as he and the other – Chummy was sure it was Norman – charged down the road. She could see he was so concentrated on the job at hand that who was actually standing around watching was of little consequence. The two nurses were rooted unintentionally to the spot, fascinated in an abhorrent way at what was unfolding as the encouragement of the crowd intensified with more shouts.

Neither had heard language quite like it as the crowd started cheering the men on, goading them to keep fighting and turning on the Police Officers rather than each other even though all they were doing was their job.

"One does hate that" Chummy whispered watching carefully for Peter, "there's really no need for it!" He'd told her bits and bobs about his job; what he got up to and the kinds of people he encountered. She'd been interested and it had struck her how dedicated and determined he was to do good by himself and rise up the ranks. He'd seemed animated, really much like her, when they talked of their professional dreams and where they wanted to be in ten, fifteen years time but she was still not entirely sure, or even if, their lives would continue to intertwine. To her side, Trixie just nodded in agreement to her comment. She knew they had been on a handful of dates now and they must have some form of attachment, but if she was being honest, she understood what Chummy was saying regardless of who Peter was in her life. Why was it so necessary to abuse people that are just doing their job and trying to keep the place peaceful?

They were still fascinated though and as they stood horrifically mesmerised, Chummy started to feel her heart race, seeing one of the officers pushed to the ground and the cheer that followed from the crowd; just a smidgen frightened for Peter's safety now. Half of her wanted to tear through that group and give them a piece of her mind but she knew courage would fail her.

Through the crowd she saw Peter all of a sudden, side on, haul one of them up off their feet and shove him hard against the pub wall with such sufficient force the fighter cried out. Her eyes were focused on him as the crowd suddenly hushed quiet when someone within it shouted louder than the rest, realising that all of a sudden the two officers seemed to have the upper hand. Neither girl could work out who said what but the crowd disbursed as the fun seemed to be over really rather quickly.

Arrests made, and two other officers having arrived just that little bit too late, Peter looked up from brushing down his uniform to find the two nurses on the other side of the street; revealed when the crowd left.

He walked across to where they were standing on the other pavement, drawn to her inexplicably, temporarily forgetting he was sure he had bent his wrist back awkwardly during the arrest and that would hurt in a bit. "Sorry you had to see that. Both of you" he smiled meekly, watching carefully as the two suspects were led away. Chummy resisted reaching across to turn down the collar of his tunic that had turned up in the melee, wondering for a moment if he might not welcome it. Out of the corner of her eye, however she did see Trixie take a step back to fiddle with her bicycle pack.

"Where did you learn that?" Chummy asked, the question coming out before she realised what she had said.

"Learn what?" he responded, still slightly distracted and brushing something off the front of his tunic.

"That" she said, gesturing towards where the fight had been. "How to do that?"

"Fight or break one up?" he asked with a shy smile looking up briefly, just about managing to hold her gaze even though her bicycle was blocking his path so he could get no closer.

"Both".

"Growing up in Bow" Peter replied. It was nothing more than that and a touch of police training but underlying that? Growing up on the streets of Bow. "That applies to both" he added quickly. "Fighting and breaking them up. Sometimes you to just had to...to get by..." he concluded with a self-conscious smile suddenly realising with abject horror that she must have seen every second of that brawl and his heart dropped.

"Oh" she responded, looking immediately down at the ground, noticing a fresh scuff on the toe of her shoe; anxious and apprehensive again. She thought she'd got over her nervousness at speaking to him as their dates had flowed really rather smoothly but no, floundering again but it was that tingling excitement at the forbidden that was doing it. It had happened before - when he said 'goodbye' on the steps of Nonnatus on Friday last - and she had wished he had kissed her properly, not just that feather light peck on the cheek, even though she would have no idea how to respond if he did.

"But I don't have to do it all that often. Not as a kid or now. Well, maybe more now actually...the job...it tends to...you know" Peter replied hastily, his throat drying of words and hoping she didn't think he was some kind of rampaging hooligan. That was all he needed. She was lovely; and, touch wood, all was going quite well on that front and the last thing he wanted was for her to think he spent his childhood scrapping on street corners like an scruffy, ill-mannered urchin.

Peter had no idea how she viewed the realities of Poplar but she had certainly just witnessed one of them! He had to be able to handle himself – it was what he was wearing the uniform for – but it hadn't struck him until just this second that he would really quite like to impress her if he could and breaking up a fight between drunks in broad daylight _and_ confessing that he'd been doing it since he was a kid - wasn't the best of way of doing that. He wasn't so sufficiently blind to notice already that she knew things far better than the streets of the East End even wondering for a moment if she had even witnessed a proper fight before.

Chummy nodded carefully; at a loss of for words. Again. She'd never admit it but seeing him wade in like that set her heart a-flutter. A small corner may have been anxiety that he might get hurt but to her alarm and she might say shame, she felt her heart skip for other reasons she really didn't feel she could explain without thoroughly going scarlet.

He had another side to the really quite sweet, gentle and – she had found – respectful man that would turn up for dates in his Sunday best and keep his paws off her all night and her mind had wandered to places that the Ayah would surely scold her for even now. Seems that the Constable had hidden depths and they were making her think all kinds of inappropriate thoughts! Chummy knew she wasn't supposed to be impressed at such uncouth behaviour, but between her and no-one else, she might just venture to say that she was really quite….well, quite, yes….. just that. _Quite._

Peter knew he was on duty though and would be slaughtered if he was seen entertaining. The whole shift knew who "Noakes' Missus" was although he daren't tell that was how the lads referred to her just in case it put her off completely. Still it was no worse and no better than what some of the other's wives were talked about. _"Your missus delivered our Joan's kiddie last night. Safe as 'ouses. Give 'er a quick one from us in fanks will yer Noakes!"_

Chummy she pressed her lips together, not sure what to say. If she was being truthful with herself; the way he had handled himself she knew she should have been thoroughly disgusted that he could be reduced to it - even as part of his job - but she _wasn't_. _Not one blasted bit. Rather rapt if it came to it.  
_

Trixie gesturing at her watch caught her eye and she smiled quickly at him, Peter soon realising that it seemed that their conversation was over. It was probably for the best in all. He was on shift and he was sure he had seen something on her face that he didn't want to read any more into in case he got his hopes up too high.

"Are you still going to come to see that film on Friday with me?" he asked tentatively. The number of dates they had he could count on one hand, notwithstanding the jokes of his workmates, and he was still nervous of asking her out that very next time just in case he had bored her silly with stories from his childhood holidays on the farm or how he wanted to travel the world or if she was tolerating him to be polite.

"Of course" she smiled, reluctant to turn her bicycle round so they could leave; even though she knew she had to. "Collect me at half past six?"

She just about heard the slightly relieved 'of course' as they rode off, her not daring to take a look back at him as, cheekily though, that flutter in the pit of her stomach was still there and would it go away the whole journey back?

No...it wouldn't!


	2. Chapter 2

Sister Evangelina had a quandary.

One delivery pack to, well, _deliver_ and not a single nurse in blessed sight to do it. She couldn't go herself – she was the last one in and Lord knows would happen if there was a call now. There would be words to be had with Nurse Franklin for leaving it behind the moment she dared show her face for tea. The Sister sighed loudly as the pack stared at her from the treatment room table. What to do?

That pack had to go today as in the alternative their otherwise exemplary standards would marred by tardiness and that would simply not do by any means whatsoever! Quickly the Sister glanced over the rota on the sheet of paper in her hands. No, nobody. She could only hope that there may be a call up that way and Mrs Myles would get her delivery pack as promised.

Sister Evangelina picked up the box, deciding to leave it in a prominent place that someone somewhere might receive the rather broad hint and take it up there for her if they were nearby on a call. Either that or Nurse Franklin might actually remember that she had left it behind and take it upon herself to account for her forgetfulness. Placing the pack down in her chosen spot Sister Evangelina shook her head despairing, and annoyed, and she walked towards the kitchen, placing her hand on her throat. She was sure she was developing a cough too and perhaps, honey and lemon might attend to that awful sensation when she swallowed. That wasn't helping her mood by any means to pick up a Summer cold and she was close to the edge.

As the water in the kettle boiled away she heard someone come downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Sister?" Chummy asked as she walked in; a curious look on her face if ever the Sister had seen one.

"Nurse Browne!" Sister Evangelina exclaimed, taking the kettle off the ring. "To what do I owe your company?"

"There a delivery pack on the hall table" Chummy announced; unusual to find it there as she walked past on her way for a glass of water wondering if anything if someone had rushed out on a call and left it behind by accident.

"Well would you ever know it?" Sister Evangelina replied, resting her hands down on the edge of the worktop, patience with life currently wearing rather thin and not being afraid to hide it. "And before you make any further silly statements, I am the one who left it there and before you ask why, perhaps you would care to take that up with Nurse Franklin once she decides to grace us with her presence again".

"Sorry Sister?" Chummy asked, floating around, really quite unsure why the Sister seemed to be in a temper with her for a simple question.

"Mary Myles. She was intended to have that delivery pack by twelve noon today. It transpires it remains here at gone four!" Sister Evangelina replied, taking up the kettle and pouring it into a waiting mug.

"She's Empson Street isn't' she? " Chummy asked. "Number 3? The room on the bottom floor at the back?"

"I do believe she is" Sister Evangelina replied suspiciously, looking across and wondering why the Nurse seemed to be interested.

"Would you like me to take it?" Chummy offered seeing the Sister obviously hesitate at the question.

"Take it?" she replied. "It's your day off".

"I know but if it helps and one is rather at a loose end" Chummy replied. All her jobs for today had been done and she had thought about some fresh air. She may as well kill two birds with one stone as it were; take the pack and take in the air.

The Sister shrugged as she stirred in a teaspoon of honey. "If you insist…."

The sky was getting greyer by the second and by the time she crossed over the river, Chummy was starting regret not cycling. Walking had seemed to be a good idea as she departed Nonnatus with the pack under her arm, but now she had made it to the main road, it was almost certainly going to rain and do it sooner rather than later. There was a respectable little café on the bottom end of Devons Road. Perhaps she could slip in there if it started to look like it was going to pour down if it caught her on the way up. She picked up her pace slightly as the darkening clouds moved in.

The parcel delivered she stepped out of the old Victorian house and the sky was still that grim shade of grey as it overshadowed Poplar, obscuring what sun there was and looking fit to burst. Chummy stared heavenward for a second sending up a quiet prayer, just enough time to get her back to Nonnatus would be most acceptable thank you very much if you could. As she raised her eyes again, just to make sure, she felt a single drop of water land with a splatter on her cheek.

"Blast it!" she cursed under her breath, seeing more drops mar the cobbles in front of her. "Bally typical!" She had a coat on, but it wasn't really suitable for the rain as she took a step back under the doorway. Looks like it is that café after all she thought even though wasn't the way she envisaged spending the rest of her day off, sitting whilst she waited for the rain to go off. Still standing, under the lip of the door frame she heard her name.

"Camilla?"

She looked down quickly seeing Peter standing at the foot of the steps. "Hello" he smiled, having spotted her from the other side of the road; nicely surprised to see her as he walked up the four steps to her side.

She couldn't stop returning his smile. There was something about it that was contagious. "I thought you were on nights this week" she noted. She hadn't volunteered for the off chance that she might see him knowing where he lived – although it might have been nice and it seemed that someone was listening to her.

"I am" Peter replied, coming to stand with her under the door frame as that handful of spots of rain were now certainly more. "I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk".

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, worried, probably unnecessarily, but still. He was hovering beside her, six inches between their elbows not wanting to stand too close; hands clamped behind his back.

"Nothing new" he replied, squinting up at the ominous sky too. "Just gets like that sometimes. Last night was busy with that accident down in the docks and two shifts were out trying to sort out the mess". Mess it had been as well and what he had witnessed had haunted what little sleep he did have; his mind still on telling that far too young wife with a baby on her hip and a tired toddler at her feet that he was ever so sorry but the accident had been fatal.

Chummy nodded. She had heard something had gone on but not too many details and knew he couldn't really tell her. "So are you on your way for your walk or coming back?"

"Coming back" Peter replied. "Quite glad really with all this!" he responded, gesturing upwards. "Walking usually helps". How many miles around Poplar he had covered, both on duty and off, he daren't add up.

All of a sudden she seemed lost for words, just wishing he might budge closer to her as she was getting chilly. "Are you going back to Nonnatus?" he asked, not really wanting her to right now.

"I was thinking of going to that café - Lewis'? - to wait for the rain to go off" she replied, examining the sky again.

"It's shut" Peter replied bluntly as she turned with a questioning look on her face. "The chap that owns it – his wife died last Sunday. It's shut for the funeral today". He'd walked past it not just ten minutes ago and saw the scruffily handwritten sign attached to the door.

"Oh" she responded. She didn't know them, only said hello when they had been in there that one time. "Well if that is the case, one supposes one best get back to Nonnatus. Rain or shine!"

"Would you…?" he began. "Would you like to come up with me? I make better tea than that café…" he concluded, trying to make a joke out of his hesitance but not wanting to bring a close to this opportune meeting.

"Up to your lodgings?"

"You don't have to…" he replied, realising he had probably just blown it; jumped head first too quick. "I mean….you can come up if you want to but I don't mind if you don't and I could walk you back now if you'd rather.…"

"Isn't your Landlady there?" she asked, knowing certain visitors were strictly not allowed but he had got her thinking.

"In Margate, visiting her sister apparently" Peter offered. "Went on Sunday; back this Sunday".

"Oh" she replied. To him it sounded like a rather hesitant puff of breath.

"But its fine if you don't want to…." he concluded, eyebrows raised hoping to impress the point that she could say 'no' even though he would very much like it if she said 'yes'.

"No…" Chummy responded, deciding for once that she'd do something for herself. After all, it's the middle of the day; no landlady about and she really had no cause to question him otherwise. "I'd like to".

Peter smiled widely. "Come on then" he said, far too brief the gentle tap on her hand, "if we walk quickly we can probably miss the rain before it really starts".

The pair shot up the road, one eye on the sky and with her heart hammering.

"You can sit down you know…." Peter smiled, leaning around the kitchen door frame as she lingered in the sitting room. She had already floated up all four flights of stairs behind him as he led the way and opened up the door. She knew he wouldn't jump on her underneath but her nerves were not listening. Anyone else might have done except him although what was that lingering in the back of her mind? She might like it if he did? Chummy blinked quickly and walked across the thinning carpet to the settee; sitting and sinking down, clamping her hands between her knees as her eyes wandered over the sparse decoration, tired furniture and the rain now battering the small window.

Peter arrived by her side again, cup of tea for her in hand, which she took, breathing in the steam as it rose towards her. She noticed he sat on the armchair to her left rather than next to her on the settee. "Thank you" she whispered.

"Pleasure". Did she see he was nervy too? She'd seen that face when he'd asked her out - well when Sister Evangelina broadly suggested that he take her to the cinema - but she'd assumed then it was due to his audience. Here there was no congregation except her and the look, she was sure, was still there.

"What time are you back on shift tonight?" she asked, thinking for a moment that despite how plain the place looked that brief sight of the roofs of Poplar out of the window, attracted her no end and she was starting to feel inexplicably comfortable; even if the settee was a little saggy under her behind. A thought encroached that she might have to do something about that one of these days until she shoved it firmly away. Talk about getting ahead of yourself!

"Seven until seven and then next week I'm doing the same" Peter replied, interrupting her wandering mind and taking a sip of his own tea. He didn't have entertain much so it was mugs and no saucers.

"Next week?" she inquired, remembering something that he had told her a date or two past. "I though you only did one week of nights a time".

"Yes, that's the way its mean to be but I do it once in a while" he responded. He didn't tell her why really. It was a combination of time and half that should give his little pot of savings a boost to pay for that present he had spotted to give her for Christmas and, perhaps more pressing, sadly having no-one to come home to. Neither she needed to know quite yet, particularly the latter and how much he might like it if there were.

Chummy nodded and took a sip of her tea too. "This is much better than that café" she smiled. "Much better company…."

Peter smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment for my hospitality services".

"Well it is" she whispered pleased he hadn't said anything that would mortally embarrass her. It was very strange to be handing out compliments and indeed for that taking them too. This time though it didn't feel forced and he hadn't given her a withering look in response at her attempt to be friendly.

"Peter?" she asked, seeing him look up and expect a question. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but please don't tell anyone I've been up here with you. Alone".

He looked at her inquiring for second. "I won't".

Chummy felt as though she should explain further. "Our…. _friendship._ I don't want my mother to…" she was about to say 'know', but she replaced with it 'interfere'. "I don't want her to interfere". She knew deep down why she was about to say she needed to keep him a secret from her family, but it would hurt him so she kept her counsel. When she had the strength and dug up some confidence, perhaps that would change.

"So you want me for yourself?" he asked, realising immediately he had put his foot in it. _Shush, Noakes, you absolute flaming idiot! Stupid thing to say! Do you want to scare her off?_ It was only him thinking how rather _right_ it felt to have her sitting under his roof and he hauled himself back from the precipice so his brain could regain control over his mouth.

Chummy didn't react though. She didn't know how to react but he knew he had to rescue himself.

"Camilla I do understand that it's not the done thing for a single girl to be alone in a chap's lodging, but I will keep whatever secrets you want me to keep. I won't do anything that will hurt you", he concluded, trying to impress on her that he meant it, watching her circle the mug in her hands. She raised her eyes from the swirling tea in front of her and wondered whether she could believe him. "I honestly won't" he continued.

She smiled tightly. "Thank you".

The walk with its combination of tea and company seemed to have done the trick with the tired Constable and as they talked of minor and incidental things, she saw him suppress a yawn and although unintentional, she took it has her cue to leave. "I must get back. Sister Evangelina will wonder if I've been kidnapped" she said suddenly, tea cup dry and having refused a second.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" he asked.

"No" she replied, shaking her head quickly; saying no too quickly too. "You need to rest. Get your sleep".

Chummy could still feel his hand in hers as she walked along the road, stepping over puddles after the short spurt of heavy rain that had crashed down on Poplar just minutes before, the last droplets falling as he squeezed her hand as they stood in the doorway saying goodbye.

Secrets to be kept from her family; those who could claim they were meant to love her. Now from her friends too of her visit today.

As much as it pained her, yes, they _were_ secrets and she had no choice.


	3. Chapter 3

Secrets. More little secrets.

He was still mortified and knew it was his fault.

"I am sorry" Peter had said over and over again, thinking he had managed to ruin their night out by his own lack of attention to detail. She'd said it didn't matter one bit, but something _so simple_ as to get a time and a date wrong! Normally you could set your watch by the presence of Constable Noakes but, it would transpire, certainly not this particular Friday night.

Turned away from their favourite dining rooms which were heaving with people and where he thought he had booked a table, it had been vinegary chips out of paper sitting on 'their' bench by the canal instead and the guilt was weighing on his shoulders. Something so _simple_!

It was by no means dark and it was a good few hours until her curfew, Peter hoping the evening could have been spent sitting comfortably eating dinner and talking; here they were faced with the prospect of a rather short date. Too late for the cinema they were too as he took hold of her hand to help her up from the bench, throwing his left over, well in fact half eaten, chips in the bin. Something had switched his appetite off tonight.

It had been a week since they had been sitting in that self-same place and he had told her he loved her; that moment when he had kissed her and he had seen that shy smile he had been waiting for. Now several kisses later, Peter wondered whether he was still in the dog house.

"I am sorry Camilla", Peter began, trailing after her with his tail between his legs as she wandered on ahead with him tagging behind.

"Be quiet" she retorted as they walked up the worn steps where the narrow alley from the canal side would open out into the road. "It was an honest mistake, Peter. I'm not remotely upset". It sounded casual and Peter really quite hoped that his ears had not deceived him.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" he asked as they walked along hand in hand now; blending into other people going about their evening business.

"Nothing" Chummy replied smiling back at him. "There's really no need".

Peter frowned but took her word for it and for the moment decided to say no more.

"So where shall we go instead then?" he asked, not remotely keen to end this date any time soon. Entertainment in Poplar tended to be a bit sparse at times if you had got through the cinema and the more respectable end of the dining rooms. Peter didn't really want to take her to a pub and after that there was, well, not much at all apart from a walk and they were doing that.

"It's Friday isn't it?" Chummy inquired as they wandered slowly ahead.

"Yes" he replied, wondering if she had had a bright idea to hand as he had come up with nothing in the few moments he had had to think. "Friday all day".

"Then we can go up to your attics" she said, but feeling him pull slightly on her hand, hesitating.

"Mrs Lindsey will be there" Peter replied. He knew his house rules and whilst other tenants seemed to break them with almost ritual habit, it would just be his luck that he would be the one kicked out for the infringement of 'no young lady visitors'.

"So from what you tell me, with it being Friday night, she isn't exactly going to be sober" Chummy replied.

"No, that's true". Peter had to make the concession on that one.

"So if we creep up she might not notice" Chummy stated. She could tell he was quite surprised how forward she had suddenly become but the alternative was deliver her up to Nonnatus, saying 'goodnight', retreat to his lodgings alone to while away his boredom or to continually kick himself for making an almighty mess of their arrangements. She was worth the risk though and he really had no argument against her.

They crept up the stairs, on tip toes, but the house was as good as empty. Chummy had to stifle a laugh as he almost propelled her into the sitting room like illicit cargo when they both heard a door slam underneath their feet. It was nice being up there though and she was glad she had the nerve to suggest it to him as just being with him felt like home already.

Music from the radio was drifting across as they sat side by side on the settee and in a moment's pause from conversation; Peter's eyes were closing as the day caught up with him.

"Peter?" she asked, fiddling with the pale green glass bead bracelet around her wrist couldn't resist buying in the market the other day.

"Hmmm?" he responded, feeling himself drifting off; snoozing. He was utterly useless company tonight it seemed!

"Can I ask you something?" she questioned, watching his face carefully noting his eyes were closed, head resting back on the settee as he nodded. She was really quite glad of the fact his eyes were shut as what she was about to ask could really cause heads to turn. "Can you kiss me?"

His eyes opened slowly at the out of the blue but endlessly intriguing question and he really couldn't turn her down. Peter smiled slightly and she felt the pads of his fingers drift along her jaw to hold gently onto her chin as he sat up and pulled her slightly forward. "I can do that".

The kiss was almost so gentle it was barely there as she watched him sit back again against the cushions, resuming his almost slumbering state.

"No" she began, feeling brave by the changes that there had been in their relationship this past week or so. _He loved her; he had told her that he loved her_. "I meant kiss me properly. _Properly_ " Chummy emphasised.

He opened his eyes again, more so this time at her statement. Peter knew what she was saying and knew what his answer was. "No".

"Why not?" she asked, trying to ignore the fact she was panicking inside again. It wasn't a difficult question to answer so she thought but his answer was so direct and firm and it set her off wondering why. Did he want to? He'd said he loved her then surely he'd know how to show it? Was she really that... _objectionable_?

To his ears though she sounded so childlike and innocent, but then again that's what she was. _Innocent._ Peter knew – no, hoped perhaps moreso - that her virtue might be in his hands on day (so to speak), but this was a woman far above his class and she must have seen so many of the finer things in life to be faced now with a Policemen with not very much more to offer to her than himself. The fact she was asking him to kiss her _properly_ only served to make him realise just how unworldly she was and to be frank, at that point, there would be no going back. He'd told her he loved her and meant it. Now if he did what she asked of him, he'd have to think about marrying her too.

"Tell me…. please?" she begged, turning in her seat to face him better, needing to know why not.

"Because if I do" he breathed, "I won't be able to trust myself". He had closed his eyes again.

"Won't…?" she began thoroughly confused and still in need of her answer.

"Camilla, I don't trust myself to kiss you _like that_ and step away tonight" he said with a desperate sounding sigh. There were plenty of cheap girls in Poplar; the odd one he had given up on after a date or two long ago, but she wasn't one of those and she was too precious to lose after one false move and if it meant waiting, then so be it. He had resolved that weeks ago.

She was perplexed. _Won't trust yourself to what? Stop? But what if I don't want you to stop?_

"I trust you" she began, "and I trust you that you can and will". He frowned. "Peter, you've been so respectful of me these past few weeks and I feel so safe with you". She knew she had so much to discover about herself, including all of those things that as a woman she should know by now but had been shielded from for far too long. "I have so much to learn about life, about people, about _myself_ and I want to do that with you".

She was tired of being Camilla Browne, pushed to the back and looked at like an oddity. In him she had something that _normal_ people had and she was determined not to let the past ruin it for the sake of her future.

Peter swallowed. This was so difficult and he still couldn't look at her properly. "Camilla, you know I love you….."

"I know you do and I….I love you too which is why I want you to".

Peter sat up and turned towards her, taking her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. She didn't like it when he scowled. It was music to his ears to hear her tell him she loved him; putting it to the back of his mind that she didn't seem to reciprocate his feelings when he said it the other day. On the other hand though he knew enough about her to realise that saying that she loved him was such a step that he was willing to wait until he married her to hear it back.

"I mean it" she whispered, wondering if he didn't believe her. "I do love you".

He looked down briefly to where he was still absently caressing her skin, thinking far too many thoughts in an already overcrowded brain. "You mean the world to me Camilla". Peter never thought this side of forever that he would meet a woman who he wanted to take as his wife; not after Jean. Now he had found her though, he was petrified of that one mistake that may cause her to think differently of him. Driving her beyond her boundaries was one of those no matter what she said to the contrary.

He was hardly the most experienced of chaps anyway and sometimes he wondered if his anxiety to please might just be his downfall. "I just don't want to push…I'd just like it to be right".

"It is right" she replied.

His frown lessened slightly as she wheedled her hand from his and leant across, running her palm over his cheek, leaning forward and kissing him instead deciding to bite the bullet if he was going to dither. All she wanted to do was try and let him know; that's all. Let him know that, even if the words wouldn't come, that her actions on her behalf can speak too.

She pressed her lips firmly to his; breaking the kiss away even she could feel his steady breathing as they hovered an inch apart. Foreheads just gently touching, she felt him frown again. "Don't think Peter" she pleaded, feeling his lips catch hers again just ever so quickly. "I think and its desperately horrible".

Chummy felt his palm touch her face, mirroring her, and his thumb draw itself along her cheekbone, holding her just as close as ever. If she had found herself at that moment, she needed him to take the lead for her even with all these ideas in her head. It almost seemed time to step into the big wide world, away from all she was before. It was the only way she would grow.

Before Chummy could think very much further about it, his lips touched hers again as she felt her insides tighten in expectation and trepidation. Peter was only doing what she wanted - no what he wanted too - ever so gently deepening the kiss indulging in a desire that had been shoved so far down for far too long and forgetting his reticence in lieu of the moment and her pleading brown eyes.

Chummy herself really did not know what she was feeling. Girlish ideas aside, one of these days she might be the woman she most certainly looked like in the mirror, but didn't feel so right now.

She had been following his lead all this time, but was that strange feeling confidence as she moved her lips over his? A faith in her own ability to love, be loved and not been too terrified to show it for fear of ridicule? Judging by the care and attention he seemed to giving to this kiss perhaps his previous misgivings of lack of trust in himself were only a fleeting fantasy and he needed confidence this time just as much as she did.

Her hand had dropped to his neck as she found herself relaxing, just resting fingertips on his grey shirt collar; the gentle brush of his thumb still on her cheek feeling almost hypnotic. For want of a better expression she was drowning, forgetting to breathe and it seemed Peter sensed it too.

"I don't want you passing out on me" he whispered, slowly withdrawing from her, still brushing her cheek. "Breathing helps once in a while". He was about to make a joke about how devastating an impact he was having on her if she forgot to breathe, but he'd been there before, tried being funny during inopportune moments and fallen flat on his face.

She was looking down at their hands, unable for a second to try to take in his expression. Of course _he'd_ done that before but it was never really quite this special and she felt closer to him than ever now. "You can trust yourself" she whispered. "See?"

Peter nodded gently. There were too many things rushing through his head to answer her properly; wanting to kiss her again but this was all about her and the steps she needed to take for herself to be the person that she saw behind her own eyes.

He saw her as clear as day, had done from the moment he opened his eyes, propelled to the ground with a sore head and a grazed elbow and now it was a question of whether she did too and if not, when she might.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hello, you devilishly handsome creature!" Chummy whispered as Peter's parent's dog trotted up to her with his usual enthusiastic greeting, paws all over the place as he slobbered on her hands as she stepped over the threshold into the Noakes' modest house.

"I thought you were talking about me then…." Peter quipped co-incidentally walking down the stairs as his mother opened the door to Chummy. She couldn't look him in the eye in front of his Ma for a comment like that even though he was wearing one of his irrepressible smiles tonight it seemed.

"You can live in 'ope son" his mother retorted flatly, Peter walking past towards the back kitchen. "Out of ve way, you 'airy mongrel" she carried on pulling the dog away. "Camilla 'ere don't want your muddy feet all over 'er nice coat!"

"Its quite alright Mrs Noakes" she smiled down the dog, undoing her buttons as the disgruntled animal turned tailed and followed Peter into the kitchen, clearly knowing his presence wasn't welcome.

"Less of vat!" his mother interrupted. "It's Irene".

"Sorry" Chummy smiled, folding her coat over her arm as his mother took hers off the hook to put on. "Irene"

"Now will you to be alright you two?" Irene asked, loud enough for her son even though she didn't really give him the opportunity to respond as he reappeared from the kitchen with two mugs of tea in his hands and the dog at his heels. "Now I'll be back by ten, half ten at least" Irene carried on. "Ver's a cottage pie warming in ve oven an' don' worry about savin' any for me, workin' in vat place puts me off eatin' meat for days!" Chummy smiled and nodded. "And you son" she said pointing at Peter. "No mischief!"

For once in her life Chummy actually knew what his mother meant and after saying their goodbyes she locked the front door as his hands were full, feeling her heart flicker as she briefly caught his eye."Has your Mum got a new job?" Chummy asked, changing the subject as she hung her coat up on the peg in the hallway; the one vacated by his mother and receiving her tea to her hand.

" _Another_ job…" he replied, gesturing for her to follow him into the sitting room."Number three I think it is now".

"I'm exhausted with one!" she exclaimed, sitting down on the settee by him side by side.

"She's always been like that" Peter replied. "When Dad couldn't work she just took on more jobs. Abattoir this time".

 _"Abattoir?"_

Peter nodded. "Cleaning up the shop floor!" he exclaimed as Chummy grimaced. She knew that her own job had its moments, but carcasses and rotting cast off meat? "Dad didn't want her to do it, but its good money for the hours so he really didn't have a choice in it if they wanted to keep paying the rent". It had been with heavy heart that he had learned just this evening that their landlord had put the rent up even more and how he wished he could help rather than have his mother take on yet another job but it was near on impossible; particularly if...

"One supposes you could do a lot of things to keep a roof over your head" Chummy replied sympathetically, interrupting his thoughts and talking through a yawn. "Sorry" she apologised waving a hand at how rude she was being. Two minutes inside the warm house and she was ready to drop off.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" Peter asked. He'd seen her the odd time far too early in the morning; sometimes too far ahead of him to catch her up, but he'd often wondered how long she had been up but had never asked the question.

Chummy thought for a second as they sat, a respectable distance apart even though there was no-one to tell them off. "A couple of hours, three, four at most. I think". Days were blending into each other now, sometimes not knowing what hour it was from the next as daylight rolled endlessly into night and night into day. She had found herself wondering twice today if it was Friday after all.

"You could've cancelled tonight you know. I wouldn't have minded" he insisted, meaning it quite genuinely. He could house-sit with the dog easily on his own rather than make her trek all the way up here.

"No" she replied, shaking her head, entirely intent on seeing him even if she had wobbled on her bicycle on the way up as her eyes had closed for a blissful second. "We haven't said a word to each other for a week".

Peter smiled, seeing her suppress another yawn. "Come here" he said, putting his arm around her and pressing his lips to her temple as she moved across, passing him her mug to put down before she managed to spill it over his knee. "I've got comfy shoulders if you want to….?"

Without second thought she slipped her arm across his middle to make herself comfortable. Another kiss was pressed to her hairline as she settled in, seeing the dog give her a cursory glance, watching the flames in the fire crackle for a moment before Peter had to ask a question that had been burning in the back of his mind for over a day now.

"Did Sister Julienne speak to you the other night? About Saturday?" he asked after a moment's pause. Peter had been in two minds whether to bring the subject up but finally decided that perhaps he should if only to warn her or pre-empt what could well be a rather uneasy conversation between employer and employee one of these days.

"No why?" she asked, not really thinking it was anything serious; perhaps something about work so she wasn't really all that concerned as nothing had been said to her.

Peter suddenly had second thoughts and pulled a face that she did not see. "No, it doesn't matter".

"It does, tell me" Chummy replied, brushing her palm unconsciously over his belly. She felt so much better this past week or so about touching him; cuddling up thinking he wouldn't be pushing her away. He breathed in gently, knowing he was backed into a metaphorical corner now he had started the thread of his bothersome encounter with the Sister as he walked up towards All Saints and saw the Sister cycling towards him. The Sister had obviously not gone looking for him but took the moment to express her feelings on a certain subject.

"I was late bringing you back to Nonnatus" he stated, resting his cheek on the top of her head as the dog wandered back out.

"Ten minutes" Chummy responded, settling tighter to his shoulder, as though it was nothing in the world. No-one had said anything to her.

"Ten minutes too long" Peter replied, until she realised exactly what he was talking about and that Sister Julienne must have had a quiet word with him over her. "She spoke to me yesterday afternoon" he stated.

"What did she say?" Chummy asked anxiously her mind spinning ten to the dozen now wondering what on earth had been said to him to make him think he had to tell her so solemnly.

"Just to make absolutely sure I kept an eye on the clock next time" Peter replied. That was fundamentally it, even though it felt as though – as nice as Sister Julienne was about it – that he was truly being told off for keeping her away. "I should have brought you back in time, but I suppose we got carried away".

"It was ten minutes" she protested. It was a late bus that did it. A trip further afield to Whitechapel for a change and a late bus; nothing more nothing less. "Besides she is hardly Mater and well, one is slightly over the age of eighteen".

"She just cares about you" he responded, noting that was particularly true. "Wants you to be safe".

Chummy sighed, resting her palm flat on his chest. "Yes, but its _you_ Peter. She knows you'll look after me; won't do anything…." She trailed off, she supposed she did realise that all the Sisters and the girls cared but it was something to wrap her sensibilities around that they were bothered if she was upset or hurt. She didn't want to think about that though, wonder about it, as if anything as she was far too comfortable and thoughts of Mater and Pa and their ambivalence to her wants and needs were not going to ruin it now. Speaking of parents…..

"Are you sure your Mum doesn't mind me being here?" she asked, twirling one of his shirt buttons around absently, conscious she was once again alone in a place where she shouldn't be with a man.

"Not at all" Peter replied. "Besides it's us doing her a favour with Dad not being here. She doesn't like the house being left empty and the neighbours couldn't take the dog tonight".

Peter was too relaxed to move, eyes distracted from the little pulls he felt of the button on his shirt, watching the said dog stroll back in again and flop down on the hearth rug right on cue. Taking little steps closer to her, he pulled her tighter intent on just sitting and resting, shutting his eyes until he felt - before he could stop it - a rumble of a burp.

"Peter. William. Noakes." she responded, face like thunder, shooting up from his arms as she enunciated his full name. "That is…just...just…outrageous!"

"You're laughing" he stated as a matter of fact, seeing her bolt upright and a sparkle in her eyes. She knew it was uncouth to laugh but perhaps it was more the fact that he'd not felt the remote need to excuse himself. Audacious, if she had to make further comment.

"I'm not!" she responded, consciously pulling the sides of her mouth down to not give herself away; hands primly on her lap.

"Besides it's a sign of appreciation" Peter protested putting his arm back out towards her to suggest gently she lay down again.

"For your own tea-making?" she asked slowly through heavily lidded eyes; skeptical.

Peter just shrugged and smiled. "You'll get a lot worse out of me in the next few years believe me!" He was starting to feel more secure in making comments like that around her and really didn't think twice about it anymore; and that included the churnings of his stomach. For once, Chummy didn't panic when he said it either but didn't really know what to say in response so she rested her head again and wondered for a second what she was actually meant to think now. He was at ease; that was obvious to act so casual and indeed not care about it, her suddenly realising it too that she too was starting to feel those embers of her mind opening to possibility and familiarity.

 _You'll get a lot worse out of me in the next few years believe me._ She was quite looking forward to that in a perverse way if it was at all possible that he could be right.

Utterly ignoring what some may describe as an indiscretion, and indeed her mock indignation, Peter could see she was sitting twisted. "Put your feet up if you want" he offered. "Mum won't mind".

She was sitting awkwardly that way she would admit and settled closer with her legs up on the settee, leaning in closer to him. Peter saw the hem of her dress was turned over at the knee and reached across; his only intention to fold it back down again to cover her up. Instead, just as he was about to lift his hand away, her palm rested keeping him where he was.

"If we didn't have company", she began glancing sideways at the dog who was stretched out full length on the hearth rug. "I don't object". She saw a very brief frown as he worked out what she was implying. "We are getting closer to each other Peter" she stated, feeling daring even though she was stating a fact.

"I _want_ to be close to you" he replied quietly thinking, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

"You are" she replied, still studiously twisting his shirt button again.

"In every which way imaginable Camilla but at the moment that's just not possible" he whispered in response, pressing his lips to the top of her head again in reassurance if only for himself.

She wished it was possible and meant it and if he hadn't interrupted her with talk of their supper warming away in the kitchen, she might have just had to kiss him, dog or no dog and see if her courage would fail her. Instead though, she followed him into the kitchen where they sat at the table and ate, so deep in thought at what had transpired in those few short words that they ate quickly and barely exchanging a word Their dinner eaten they resumed residence on the settee, but both their eyes were closing and she sighed heavily, ready to fall firmly asleep.

"Why don't we go upstairs?" Peter said suddenly. It was intended as an innocent question, but Chummy quickly felt the palpitations in her chest, wondering if he was about to pick up the previous conversation from where he left off before dinner.

"What?" she peeped, not daring to look up.

"I'll set the alarm. I have to get you back for 10 sharp after all" he continued, not catching the tone of her voice. It was awkward being spoken to by Sister Julienne even though she was being more than nice about it Peter really didn't want that repeated any time soon and he had to deliver her back in time. "We both need a nap".

She gave in easily when she realised, feeling her heart ease back into rhythm and took his hand as they walked up the narrow staircase, turning to a room that overlooked the small back garden. "It's a bit of a squeeze" he said as he opened the door to his childhood sanctuary and letting her walk in first.

"Is this your bedroom?" she asked, eyes wandering around what was little more than a box room, a single bed jammed against one wall, bright blue curtains adorning the window and the tartan blanket slung across the bed.

"Was" he replied. "When I actually fitted in it" he concluded with a laugh as he kicked off his shoes. "Sit down. Lie down".

Chummy had left her shoes downstairs and sat, swinging her legs up so she was closest to the wall before Peter squeezed in after he set the alarm; just about fitting the pair of them under the red and green checked blanket.

"Settled?!" he joked. He hadn't been in that bed for years and it was no place for one adult let alone two.

"Completely", Chummy responded, not caring that there wasn't enough room at all, it was more ease of the heart than limbs.

"Good" he replied, holding onto her tight again. Her eyes were closing again, and she unconsciously hooked her ankle over his breathing in his warmth. Peter closed his eyes too, more to try and block out the fact he could feel every inch of her pressed into his side and there was some element of him regretting what had been a genuine thought.

"Is that alarm definitely set?" she asked quietly. _He was so warm._

"Half past nine" Peter replied, breathing slowing. "Enough time for me to get you back".

Relaxed, comfortable, happy, at ease, all of those words were spinning around her as she closed her eyes again too.

Maybe staying here forever could be contemplated seriously after all.


	5. Chapter 5

"What time do you think you'll be back?" Peter asked, watching his mother who was running from room to room tidying up around him.

"Why?" Irene asked, straightening up for a second from the magazine rack she kept tucked to the side of her armchair in the sitting room. "Do you fink you'll miss me?" she teased squeezing his chin.

"No" Peter replied slowly. "Only I need to walk Camilla back, I can't leave the dog on his own and you did say that there was someone coming to look at the boiler…."

"You sound like yer Dad. Whingin' arse he is" Irene responded, finally plumping up the last cushion. "Ve boiler man cancelled an' I finish at half free. Back about half four so you can drop Camilla off in plenty of time or she can stay for 'er tea. You two decide an' just let me know".

Peter nodded quickly, hearing a knock on the door. "Go on you go an' answer it" his mother suggested. "I needs to find me coat ovverwise I'll never get over ve water in time".

Irene heard them talking quietly and smiled. It was about time she was a grandmother and she liked this one, even with her hoity accent and those airs that were certainly not from a girl brought up in Poplar. She put her coat on as she heard them walk from the hallway into the sitting room so she could say hello to his mother before she left.

"Hello Petal", she smiled at Chummy. "I 'ope you don't mind me ropin' you 'ere in on 'er day off to clear out ve shed!"

"I don't mind Irene, really I don't" she replied. She didn't after all. It was either that or babysit Sister Monica Joan after last weeks furore and Chummy simply didn't want to, no matter how charitable she ought to be being as Peter was currently holding more of her attention than pretty much anything else outside her job.

"Well just makes sure 'e does all ve heavy liftin' an' don't try an' move vat old mower, it'll probably fall apart soon as you look at it!" Irene responded, picking up her handbag from the chair, finally ready to leave for work.

Chummy smiled. "We won't".

"Good" his mother nodded, doing the last button on her coat and ready to go.

"Ready?" Peter asked, going to kiss Chummy on the cheek, casually rubbing her arm as he did, hearing the front door close and knowing his mother was out of sight. She nodded and smiled following him out through the kitchen, over the back step and into the small garden with the shed in one corner and not much else but a roughly laid patch of grass with dandelions peeking through. The back fence was on its way down too and Peter pretty much knew he'd get asked to repair it sooner rather than later.

"So when was this last cleaned out?" she asked curiously, looking over his shoulder at the, well, at the _mess_ in the shed once he had fought with the rusty padlock.

"Mum and Dad moved in here when I was ten, nearly eleven" Peter began, warily surveying what stood before them. "Dad can't do it and they've never asked me before now…." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh well" Chummy began, stepping around him. "In that case we need a logical plan".

It was a mild day today but the radio said there could be some light rain, so if they laid out what was in the shed in piles on the rough piece of grass at the back of the house, they could at least see what was in there and see what needed to be thrown away. Peter was good at systems and order; felt all was well with the world if everything was in its own place and he followed her in; standing behind her. "We need a pile for garden tools…. painting…." he began, bending down and producing an old filthy wooden Dalmatian dog that had been lying on the floor. "Toys".

"Is that yours?" she asked with a smile; a flash of the toddler version of her love that she had seen in photographs, running around with it. Peter shook his head. "Philip's" he said quietly and turning to him she saw him frown at the sight of what had been his brother's favourite toy sitting in his hand.

"Well" she began, taking the dog from him. "Would you like me to take it back to Nonnatus? I'm sure I can give him a new coat of paint?"

"Would you?" he asked quietly.

"I will" she smiled, walking back around him out to the garden, over the back step again and disappearing into the kitchen to put the toy in a safe place to take away. Peter considered her as she walked. The fact that she even thought of doing something like that was difficult to comprehend. The fact that she would take such an interest in a man she had only ever met in stories and a photograph almost overwhelmed him that someone would have the heart and the kindness to even think of it. Peter was broken from his thoughts when she reappeared, tracked by his parents Labrador who decided to take up residence guarding the shed door lying down like a Sphynx to supervise the workers as they toiled.

They set to work quickly, separating out garden tools, paint pots, more old toys, a broken garden chair, his father's fishing rods and a yard brush or four. What could well have been floorboards followed, another garden chair, a few chewed dog toys and before Chummy reached the floor in her assigned corner, a lampshade.

"Peter?" she said suddenly leaning down. "Can you help me with this box? It's stuck". The wood felt damp and after a quick scout around Peter felt as though it was moveable without the world crashing down on their heads.

He shifted towards her, realising there really wasn't very much room for manoeuvre and he had to lean down past her, down one side to even get close to the box. His hand hovered near the base of her spine; thinking he would have to squash beside her, sort of leaning sideways to get close to get his right hand down to help. "Oh just do it!" he thought to himself putting his palm down and wedging himself between her and his father's workbench.

"On three?" Peter asked.

"On three" she repeated, not thinking the first thing about the fact they were now pressed against each other in a somewhat confined space. Whatever odour was now reaching her nose from the said box was distracting her from the fact he was in such close proximity and before she could think any further, she heard the word 'one'.

The box came free with a determined pull; far too easily free and the pair took a hasty stumble backwards as it shot out of its hiding place with a scrape across the floor, Peter unconsciously grabbing hold of her wherever he could before she fell backwards. There was a moment of deathly silence as they safely stood up when he realised exactly where his left hand was – perched neatly on her backside - and the right hand that had gone to grab her upper arm was, well, you guessed it.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, hands scorched. It wasn't like he hadn't touched her before, hugs a-plenty, but that was ever so slightly different.

"No, no, no" she babbled, brushing down her dress self-consciously. "Accidents happen. Could have been worse!" Chummy looked around herself. "Could well have speared myself somewhere painful on that spade". She gestured behind her. "No harm done".

"Really?" he asked.

"Really" she smiled brushing her palm across his cheek. "None at all". Chummy nodded quickly and felt like just leaning forward and kissing him to make her point. Trouble was she could see he was embarrassed – even though there was no need – and he moved away to pick up the box to take it outside before she could move.

She took a quick breath. "What's in there?" Chummy asked, seeing him put the box down next to the dog who took a cursory sniff and backed off with a look of disgust.

"I don't want to find out" Peter joked, wiping something unpleasant off his hand. "We'll leave it to air for a bit…." He walked back into the shed towards her. "It could be _anything"._

They worked in silence for a while, passing each other with quick smiles as they made short of work of creating piles on the grass and emptying the remainder of the shed; the floor now as spotless as it could be and they actually had room to move. It would seem the 'incident' had been forgotten or perhaps, more likely, dismissed by her as the accident that it was even though it was preying on his mind.

"I think I need to wash my hands" Chummy mused, turning her palms up and finding them black with dirt. "And I think we deserve a sit down and a cup of tea".

"Best idea you've had all day" Peter replied, receiving only a raised eyebrow in respons as he turned to go to do it.

"Wait…Peter…" she began, catching hold of his jumper sleeve to stop him moving. He turned with an expectant look on his face. The look on hers, he couldn't read.

"Thank you for catching me before. I really could've hurt myself". She took a step forward, deciding to kiss him as she had intended to an hour or so ago, genuinely relieved he had been so quick on the draw. The fact that he had taken a more than generous handful of her in the process almost didn't matter. His hands were filthy too but when she felt his palm land on her neck, she really couldn't have cared less as she took a step back leaning on the bench; his other hand resting on her hip.

Quite deliberately he deepened the kiss, testing out the boundaries he currently had with her. Patience had been running short these last few dates, not wanting to leave her on the steps of Nonnatus every single damn time. Peter had decided already that he needed to ask her to stay with him – permanently – but he did need to be sure and pick his moment. Not do anything to cause her to run and that included keeping his hands to himself until she told him otherwise.

The fact that the hand on her hip smoothed to the base of her spine and she didn't flinch was surely a good sign as was the fact he heard a hitch in her breathing and, when he broke the kiss, saw her smiling. Yes, that was a good sign.

"I'll go and make that tea" Peter said quietly, giving her another quick peck on the lips before he left her.

Chummy watched him, feeling oddly calm. To be truthful she had not twitched as she had barely felt his wandering hand, concentrating far too much on whether he might think she was not just copying every move he made. What little education she had of that nature came from books that never told you more than mechanics or what was supposed to go where. A good man had once told her that the mark of a good nurse was being able to make someone comfortable and the rest was just mechanics. Maybe the mark of a good husband could be the same.

She was lost in her own world, looking out of the small cracked window over the piles they had created and saw a spot or two of rain marring the glass. "Blast it!" she whispered to herself. They hadn't noticed the sky become greyer these last few minutes and she was sure his mother might just object to the contents of the shed getting wet too.

Quickly she pulled out a tarpaulin they had found folded up and threw it has best she could over the grass, taking a glance up at the sky before a drop of rain landed on her glasses. By the time she straightened the cover Peter was on his way back to the shed with cups in hand and the dog had sensibly retreated indoors.

She trotted quickly over to where he had set them on the shelf, seeing him fold out two tiny stools they had uncovered. "These are Dads" Peter began. "When he and Uncle Tom used to go fishing years ago". She sat down trying to balance carefully. "They are safe" he smiled, sitting down cautiously too just in case he might have to make a grab for her again, or her him.

The rain decided to beat down harder on the roof and perched on their chairs, tea in hand, both felt really rather quite cosy. "Thank you for helping sort all this out" Peter began. "I know Mum and Dad will appreciate it".

"Will they go through everything, see what needs throwing out?" she asked, wondering if they had that job too.

Peter nodded. "It may stay on the grass for a week or two, but yes, they'll do it eventually. We can finish off the rest when the rain goes off". He watched her take a careful sip of her tea. "I was thinking" he began. "Mum was after you coming up for tea again next Saturday. Well us all _going out_ for tea somewhere. If you fancy it…"

"I've got Saturday afternoon and evening off. That would be lovely" she replied, not hesitating for a second to say 'yes'. Years - months - ago she might have thought twice about an invitation for tea with _anyone;_ that place where she would sit on the sidelines with everyone deep in conversation with anyone but her. She always seemed to be the one at the table in silence, but still though, she wanted to go out with them and would go without doubt.

"I'll tell her" he said, taking up her hand, thoughtfully rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. "She said to ask, well, because of a few things I've said to her.."

"Oh?" Chummy replied voice wobbling in apprehension.

Peter actually felt guilty about having spoken to his mother about her family but some of the things she told him made him wonder and the nagging he had got from his mother to meet this girl that he couldn't 'shut up about'... "Well, just that you don't really have much contact with them and she said…she said that she had to do something about that then….." Chummy raised her eyebrows; not sure what to say. "Mum likes you. So does Dad. They just want you to feel welcome. Part of our family as yours don't seem to...".

"I do feel welcome" Chummy responded, smiling shyly at his declaration. "Very much so".

"Good" Peter smiled, leaning across to kiss her on the cheek. "Because I'm glad you do. Feel welcome..." he stuttered to a close. No, it wasn't appropriate to say it now even though he wanted to; not in a shed over a cup of tea.

Something like that had to be right.


	6. Chapter 6

"Vis is becom' a familiar occurrence" Peter's father smiled as he opened the door to Chummy as she stepped into the house. He had spotted her coming up the path from whilst he was aimlessly lingering in the living room.

"Hello Bill" she replied with a smile. "How are you?"

"Oh, not too bad" he responded, nodding his head back down the hallway. "Just waitin' for someone to be ready….!"

"Bugger off Billy…." Peter's mother shouted from the kitchen; Chummy seeing his father shrug his shoulders.

"Ve boy hasn't made it 'ere yet" his father whispered conspiratorially in her ear. "You can 'ave first dibs on 'is Muvver's lemon cake. She won't let me! Finks I'm getting too fick around ve middle". He patted his stomach with a knowing smile; his wife's words still ringing in his ears as he tried to pinch a slice before being consigned to the sitting room.

"Yes, cos if you av a go at it ven ver'll be non for Camilla here" Irene replied, having heard every word even though he was keeping his voice low. The pair walked from the hallway into the kitchen. "Here you go Petal" Irene said, handing a fork and a saucer with a generous slice of cake on it. "Do you know vats a lovely shade of lipstick on you" she commented.

"Oh!" Chummy replied, surprised at the compliment as ever. "Thank you". It was only a pale pink and barely a slather borrowed from Trixie, but she'd put it on nonetheless.

"Where is vat boy?" his mother carried on quickly looking at the kitchen clock and sighing loudly in exasperation.

"If you want to go Irene I don't mind holding the fort until he gets here" Chummy offered, a cup of tea being placed down in front of her too on the table as she sliced through the cake. It looked like heaven. It beat Mater's cook's lemon cake hands down and no mistake.

"Don' turn down ve offer Reen. You know Jim n' Rose'll throw a fit if we're late" Bill replied, putting on his coat that had been hanging over the back of a kitchen chair, hankering after leaving as soon as they could and Camilla's offer seemed to be timed with perfection.

"Its free doors down" his mother noted, still wiping down the kitchen top from where she cut the cake and seemingly in no hurry at all.

"I know vat" his father replied slowly. "But ve've booked a table at some fancy place for six an' if we're late you'll be 'earin' it from Rose _all_ night". He knew what Rose Norton was like and Bill really didn't want to sit through a night of whinging women.

"Where are you going?" Chummy asked. Peter had told her they were going but not where; hence their 'date' was relocated to his parent's house so there was someone in.

"Can't remember ve name. Somefink forin" Irene replied, draping the dishcloth over the tap. "Fink it might be Chinese or somefink".

"As long as it sells pale ale, I don' care" Bill responded with a quick look at the kitchen clock too, but for other reasons that wondering where his son was. "Come on ven woman!"

Irene tutted loudly and addressed Chummy. "Are you sure you don' mind Petal?"

"Not at all" she smiled in response, really quite genuinely. She could manage looking after a house for a few minutes and she was sure that Peter would be here soon enough.

Irene nodded feeling her husband's arm link in hers. "Now all vat's sorted….We'll be back after closin' time" he said dragging her away out of the kitchen, grabbing her coat from the peg on the way out.

Chummy smiled and, hearing the door close, walked into the front room, seeing the dog stretched out on the rug underneath the window sill. A pang of jealously of Peter touched her heart for a moment. Saying goodbye to your Mum and Dad on their way out for a night; waiting in for them, looking after the dog while you had your supper. Something so simple. How much she had missed out on.

"How about some radio my friend?" she whispered, brushing the horrid feeling away, walking over to the table and turning the dial as the dog got up, his only intention of getting up on the settee and cuddling up to his new companion. She sat with him, casually stroking his ears; the dog's head leaning on her lap and waited. Her eyes were closing when she heard the front door slam. "Mum?"

The dog shot off her knee before she could blink at the sound of the door and Peter's voice. "Close but not quite….!" she retorted, brushing dog hairs off her skirt.

"Camilla?" he asked, taking his coat off as he popped his head around the door. "How mad is Mum?"

"I would envisage it depends on why you were late" she replied looking up at him. "One of us was here and they left on time though".

Peter walked across and leaned over her, one hand on the settee arm; the other the other side of her leg. "That's fine. She'll be fine" he smiled, kissing her firmly. "Are you hungry?" Peter knew he was late to meet her and half wondered if he should have collected their supper on the way through.

"Not really" she replied, his nose an inch from hers until he stood up straight. That cake had filled a corner for now. "But if you've not eaten, it's fine". Peter nodded. No, he had barely had time for lunch today and getting here late only agitated him further.

"I walked past the chippy before", Peter offered as he stood in front of her. "Norm was there. Looks like it's been broken into. Door was kicked in. I'll go to the other one in a bit".

She nodded and he smiled back, her feeling the dog jump back up on the settee. "No, you..." Peter began. "That's my seat" he said, turning his attention to his parents pet and 'helping' him gently back off the settee by his collar.

Peter sat down with a thump, not caring about dog hairs and automatically threw his arm around her shoulders and settled close, intent on just enjoying her company for a while before he needed to go out again. Chummy thought for a second and decided not to say anything. "Did you have a good day?" she asked instead.

"Afternoon was chaos" he replied.

"Oh?" All she could concentrate on was the fact that his fingertips were dancing on her arm and it was distracting.

"That building on the corner of Grenade Street finally came down" Peter responded. "Nobody hurt. It was more just marshalling people from staring at it and kids trying to get past the barrier. That's why I was late" he sighed. "How about you?"

"Just the usual. Two deliveries and a few septic wounds…." she offered.

"Pleasant" Peter retorted, starting to feel the edges of hunger, for some reason a thought popping into his head that had no relation to their conversation. "Did Dad mention anything to you about Mum's birthday?"

Chummy shook her head as he shifted about getting more comfortable next to her. "He wouldn't have had the chance. Why?"

"It's her 65th" Peter replied. "Dad was thinking of a party for her. He's inviting the rest of the family up from Kent and Mum's cousins from Ireland that she hasn't seen for years. I'd like you to be there".

"Really?" she asked, turning her head towards him so she could look him in the eye.

"Really", Peter responded. If he had his way by this time next year she would be the start of his own family that he had been craving for too many years than he would tell you. Before she could answer he reached across just taking a gentle old of her chin. "I mean it. I want them to meet you as soon as I can".

"I know and I would really like to" she responded. It all felt so very right.

Peter grinned. "Good. Now how about I go and get supper? I'll take the dog. We won't be long".

Chummy had just put the knives and forks down on the kitchen table when she heard the door go and the thundering of furry paws as the dog was let off the lead. She turned and smiled as Peter walked up behind her, sliding his hands around her waist as she relaxed back against him feeling a kiss to her jaw, just under her ear. Must be nice, she thought, to come home and just have someone there waiting for you. She closed her eyes briefly as his breath danced across her neck, before the smell of fish and chips infiltrated her conscious and her stomach won.

Dinner over they retired back to the settee; the radio onto a different channel and the dog had retired somewhere upstairs as she relaxed. His arm was around her again and she felt him shift slightly, lips gently touching her cheekbone in a light caress. She lifted her head and really didn't know what came over herself.

Chummy knew she was being pushed closer to her boundaries that society told her to put up, but this time she didn't feel like putting her hand on his chest to stop him or stop herself giving into lustful feelings and instead decided she may just indulge in the touch and feel of the kiss that followed.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, catching his breath and brushing his thumb across her bottom lip. "That was uncalled for"

"On the contrary" she began, blinking quickly. "Caught up in the moment maybe, but nothing to apologise for". Deep down that part of her had been hoping he'd do that since her last visit to his attics but it seemed that he hadn't been too forthcoming. She saw him smile at the light blush on her face. She knew he respected her so a kiss or two hadn't done any harm so far, so why should that? Or even if he repeated himself? No, no harm whatsoever. She pressed her lips together and let out a calming breath through her nose. "As I said there was nothing to apologise for".

"I keep having improper thoughts about you Camilla" he responded quietly, wrapping his fingers in hers as they rested.

"It's not improper if I agree, surely?" she asked.

He frowned deeply. "You are so innocent of people".

"I trust you" she replied. "No-one else. Just you and I agree". This time she was insistent and her eyes fluttered shut as she felt his lips pull at the sensitive skin of her neck. "Don't make any marks" she whispered, feeling him straighten up and ever so gently turn her head away so he could look.

"All clear" he said with a laugh, eyes widening. "Can't have sister Evangelina having words with me…"

"No we can't!" she emphasised turning back to face him. " _My_ life won't be worth living, let alone yours". She would probably be out of Nonnatus quicker than she could blink if that was the case.

"I'll be careful" Peter replied, leaning down to kiss her again full on the lips, hearing her sigh. He was going to say something about kissing her in places that were not publicly on show but decided very quickly against it.

Chummy felt warmth irradiate through her blood stream as his hand slid down her arm finding its way to rest on her waist, thumb gently smoothing. With no idea what she was actually meant to do – follow him or perhaps wrap her arms around his shoulders; maybe even…...She pulled her knees up on the settee to get more comfortable and quick enough, felt his hand wander from her waist down to touch just the edge of her knee. This time she decided she wasn't going to think first and ever so gently broke the kiss. "I said once you can and I mean it".

Peter didn't bother answering or commenting as the look on her face was enough and she saw a small smile.

Comments from the Ayah about all good girls kept their knees together flitted into her mind, but solely for the fact that his palm was now laying on her stocking tops distracted her entirely. Perhaps he realised it more than her but there was a fine line being balanced here. She wasn't a girl from Poplar with elastic just as loose as her morals and in any other circumstance; Peter would never have met her he didn't think, yet she was sitting here.

Wanting nothing more from her than herself and whilst he knew there were things she was yet to tell him, she was glorious in every way possible. He'd admit, privately, that he had consciously checked himself that many times around her that it was almost automatic now that he wouldn't start kissing her like this or give in to his own desires to take steps forward until he could be sure.

Instead though, fingertips leaning against what felt like lace, it was now almost impossible as a thousand thoughts entered his head. 'Still though', the little devil decided to pipe up, 'she's not stopping you…. _listen_ to that hitch in her breathing when she kisses you….you know you want her….right this second. Am I not _right_? Doesn't her skin feel so soft?...Especially _there_.'

She however had her eyes firmly closed, torn, yes but not in the way he would perhaps be thinking. It was obvious that he seemed to be rather engaged and the feel of his touch on her neck and the hand that crept back and forth along her thigh; the deep inspirations of air she could feel and, unconsciously, the fact she seemed to be _able_ to respond to him gave her the shivers as she could feel bristles on his jaw under her lips. She had no desire at all to tell him to stop and it truly, when tucked up in her bed in Nonnatus, had struck her that she was _wanted_ by a man for what she was; not something he could mold her to be.

Chummy breathed heavily, indulging; his lips on her throat, hers on his neck, and she felt dizzy as time rolled by unnoticed. Her bones felt like liquid and she could easily just slither down onto the settee, pulling him with her and perhaps just letting those hands explore further. In places not publicly on show, she thought quickly. In her haze, she suppressed a smile skin suddenly cold from where his lips had been because he was looking at her now and it had taken her a few moments to realise.

"What?" she whispered, suddenly scared at the rather intense look in his eyes, sitting slightly back from him so she could see properly. In reality, he had looked up and seen the clock on the mantelpiece.

"I have to take you home soon" Peter offered quietly, reaching up and brushing her hair from her eyes. "Back home".

"Christ that face is miserable…." his mother noted as Peter opened the door to them back home from their night out when he had returned from Nonnatus. "Camilla gone 'ome?"

Peter gave her a tight lipped smile as she walked past. He could tell she had had one too many with the wobble in her heels. "I walked her back a couple of hours ago".

His father looked exasperated and pushed his son's head to one side to show the slight pinky dab of lipstick she had been wearing at one point, just on the collar of his blue shirt.

"Don't let yer muvver see vat" he whispered. "An' no need to look so bleedin' wretched about it…. jus' ask ve girl to marry yer before ve pair of yer turn my 'air white…."


	7. Chapter 7

"Cynthia?" Trixie murmured, tapping gently on her friend's bedroom door; coat on, buttoned up and ready to go. "Are you still alive in there?!"

The door opened and the other nurse stepped out. "Yes" she replied with a smile, silently acknowledging that for once she had taken a rather long time getting ready, closing the door behind her, "but why are you whispering?" Almost by default Cynthia's voice was low too and she had no idea why.

"Chummy's only just got back in after that delivery" Trixie replied, looking back down the corridor to the end where the other Nurse's room lay. "She's asleep".

"Only just?" Cynthia responded, surprise causing her to accidentally raise her voice. "She went out at four this morning!" she continued, dropping her voice again so not to disturb, even though it was highly unlikely that anything would wake the other Nurse up now. She knew what it was like being out for all hours; all the girls did and sleep tended to be precious.

"I know" Trixie replied. "She said something about having to go to the London with the mother. I think it was a close call. I know she telephoned and asked for Sister Julienne at one point".

"Oh…" Cynthia responded flatly. "But it was alright?"

"I think so" Trixie responded with a scrunch of her nose. "But she looked dead beat. I was going to ask her if she wanted to come out for tea after all, but I think she'll fall asleep at the table at this rate".

"Wasn't Peter meant to be coming with us too tonight?" Cynthia asked, seeing Trixie nod in the affirmative; Jenny walking towards them from her room.

"Is everyone ready?" Jenny asked, appearing at their side, noting they were one short.

"We are" Cynthia replied. "Chummy is out for the count though". Downstairs they heard the doorbell ring before anyone could explain any further and the three turned to go downstairs. "That'll probably be Peter" she noted. "We'll have to go and break the bad news".

So instead of going out on what had been a long planned trip to a new café that had opened, Peter found himself sitting at the table in Nonnatus; a cup of tea thrust into his hand by Sister Julienne as she had, realising he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, accosted him to ask if he really wouldn't object to accompanying her on a planned visit to Baffin Buildings tomorrow. Or if he couldn't; could he find someone else?

"That's fine Sister" he replied. "I know the family you mean and yes, I think it a _very_ good idea someone comes with you. We inherited that family from Hackney" Peter advised, knowing some unsavoury things just by word of mouth. "They even warned us they were being moved by the Council to our patch! None of you should go near that family without one of us there, night or day".

"Thank you Constable" the Sister responded from the other side of the kitchen table. "It is much appreciated. I do feel that I have somewhat ruined your date with Nurse Browne tonight though". Peter looked at her confused, even though Trixie had already explained why they were one woman short. "It was me that sent her to that delivery and I really should have ensured she swop with another nurse when it became clear the delivery was progressing so slowly".

"It's quite alight" Peter replied, knowing the odd hours she worked already. "We can go to that café any time".

Sister Julienne lifted her cup but before she could drink, the telephone rang. "You will have to excuse me" she said with a smile.

"I am afraid I will have to impose upon you again Constable" she said when she returned. "Would you be so kind as to wait here until Sister Evangelina returns from Clinic? She will only be ten minutes or so but I do need to go and attend to that call. It is rather urgent, otherwise I would not ask".

Ten minutes of sitting there and drinking tea wouldn't harm him. He'd wait and when the Sister came back make his way back home, perhaps picking up some supper on the way and go to bed himself. As much as he had wanted to see Camilla tonight, it had also been a long week and his bed was calling him loudly. So he sat. Ten minutes crept to twenty as he took a glance at his watch becoming nervous. All he needed now was the telephone to ring again and then he'd be firmly stuck. To his relief though he heard footsteps and wondered for a second if he had missed hearing the front door go as they were rather close.

Instead, when he looked to the sound of the steps, he saw Chummy, rubbing her eyes and yawning, glasses tucked into the neck of a brown cardigan she had thrown over her uniform. "Hello" he remarked lightly.

Chummy jumped in surprise at seeing him there, perched at the kitchen table, second cup of tea in hand. Well perhaps, as her glasses were off, 'seeing' was not quite correct. A voice familiar to her and a blur.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, realising too late how rude it sounded as she walked over to the kettle; feeling it still warm and pulling on her glasses.

"I did come to pick you up" Peter reminded her gently before he heard the sharp intake of horrified breath.

"Oh gosh!" she exclaimed, eyes wide in horror as she turned to look at him. "We were meant to be going out, weren't we?"

"We were" he responded. "The girls have gone and Sister Julienne just asked me to wait until Sister Evangelina came back". Chummy yawned behind her hand as she sat down opposite him still bleary eyed. "But don't even think of going back upstairs to get ready to go out. We can go another time".

"Do you really mind?" she asked anxiously.

"No" he laughed. "Not really". He reached across and took her hand. "As much as I want to go out with you and paint the town red, the night shifts this week have just about killed me. I was thinking of going home and sleeping. You need to sleep too".

She nodded carefully. "Shall we have something to eat here? I'm sure I can rustle up something. Or we could go down to the main road if you want?"

"No, we'll stay here" Peter replied. He was comfortable now and of no need to move. "First though…." he said, getting up and walking around to her side of the table, sitting down on the chair next to her. "Forgot something".

With that, she felt his palm on her cheek, pulling her forward into what she could well describe as an _intense_ kiss until Peter felt her start laughing. "I'm sorry" she replied, placing her hand over her mouth, feeling altogether shy. "One wasn't expecting that!"

He just raised an eyebrow, feeling confident, and did it again. "Peter!" He felt her palm on his shoulder and a slight push. "I think I should start on our tea and you can sit there and keep your mitts to yourself". She wasn't telling him off, quite the contrary, she was positively laughing with him and as she stood up she heard him make a huffing noise.

"Do you know something?" he asked seeing her get up and walk towards the fridge where she knew there were some of Mrs B's pies waiting to be warmed up. "One of these days…."

"You mean when I might be making your tea every night?" she interrupted, not daring to look at him as she leant on the fridge door, staring at the contents. He turned in his chair, even though she still had her back to him. Clearly it was something on both their minds and the atmosphere in the room changed to dramatic unease immediately.

"Yes" he replied. "I'd like you to be". Peter knew it sounded wrong to say it that way; her trapped in a kitchen attending to his needs, but he hoped she heard the meaning behind it. She took out the pies and closed the fridge with caution; still not looking and swallowed carefully too. Wanting to hear those words and actually hearing them were really quite different scenarios and before she could say anything more, he had stepped closer to her.

Chummy turned this time to find him leaning against the worktop, a foot or so beside her. "But, that is a question for you to answer not for me to make a statement on". Peter could see the flash of alarm in her eyes but knew why and he had also heard the door go, knowing they were going to be quickly interrupted.

She was about to reply when she saw Sister Evangelina barrel into the kitchen. "Is that kettle going on while you two are standing there like a pair of statues?" she asked, breathing heavily in her rush, thumping a medical bag down on the table.

"Yes Sister" Chummy squeaked, quickly glancing at Peter who had walked away to his seat again.

Tea was eaten in relative silence although she would have to admit that she felt more awake with some energy in her blood. Peter was about to put his coat on to go when she interrupted him. "Shall we go for a walk?"

They did indeed walk, mostly in silence again up towards the park. It was quite a quiet evening, a few children running around but peaceful enough. Peter knew a perfect spot and hand in hand she followed blindly as he cut through the trees and found one of the wooden benches that had been placed there long ago. They sat; the fresh air and the atmosphere that had built up over tea causing them both to be ever so slightly on their guard.

"Peter?" she began, hands tight in her lap. "Can I be honest?"

He nodded carefully half dreading what was to come.

"You know about my family. You know what they are like", she began. He had only experienced a taster from things she had told him, but his imagination was doing the rest. "I have told Mater and Pa about you. I wrote to them and told them I was walking out with a chap in uniform". She knew she could have been clearer; knew she really should have said he was a policeman but she was feeling on top of the world and thought Mater would be happy that at last there were prospects on the horizon. She also knew it was mischievous to leave a cryptic post script on her letter but by the time she sealed the envelope it was too late.

Peter considered her words for a second. "Well, that's right. Technically, I am in uniform most days".

"She will think you are in the Forces", Chummy clarified. "Air Force...Navy...Army..."

"I was at one point" he replied, but she knew immediately that scrubbing around in ditches however was not quite Mater's bag.

"One thinks one was being flippant about it when one wrote as…." She took a deep breath. "I thought she might be happy that there was someone at last. I didn't think properly".

"You didn't think?" he asked suspiciously, shifting slightly in his seat.

"Mater expected me to marry well. Financially well" she added quickly seeing his face twitch. "Someone she chose and who she thinks would be worthy of my supposed station in life".

"Well if that's the case. I'm not the man for you" Peter responded, not really knowing how else to say it any other way. There was no spite in his voice at all; he wasn't angry or even hurt. It seemed like a statement of fact if what she was saying was true. There was no way on God's earth he could compete with that class of man that it seemed her mother wanted for her.

"You are" she replied softly, mesmerised by a stone on the floor by her foot, panicking inside now that he was going to take offence but trying not to show it. "She may not see it that way, but I do. You have to believe me; I only want to be here with you. Money isn't important to me".

"Good job" Peter responded with a short laugh.

"I don't want to fight with you". He could hear the timidity in her voice.

"We're not fighting" he replied, deliberately taking up her hand, wondering why for a second why she thought he might be upset. "Your mother wants more for you than I can ever give you. That's obvious. Even if it is overweight bank account or a Rolls Royce". He'd be a fool to think he had either but he could still cling onto that hope that the fact that he loved her would win out.

Chummy sighed. "She wants to meet you. She's coming over in a couple of weeks".

"I'd expect nothing less, particularly if we might be thinking of the future". He swallowed. "And I know I've not said it before but hope you're not surprised by that".

"I am….a touch" she replied, feeling shy again. "I'd always hoped there'd be a chap along the way. Someone that might think he might…..but these last few years? It always felt like blind hope or stupidity".

"There's nothing stupid about thinking that way Camilla" he responded. "I love you." Peter hesitated for a moment. "I will always love you and if she does…..object…..the sooner she knows the quicker she'll get used to the idea".

She frowned. That was so wonderful yet so hard to hear, particularly as he seemed so blasé about it. He had to be though - had to be confident for the pair of them - obstructing any thoughts that somehow her family could interfere and separate them. Surely her mother really cannot be that bad? Surely her mother would see he looked after her and cared for her? Surely, _surely_ she could be pleased about that?

Chummy saw him take a quick look around to make sure they were alone. "I can't tell you any other way" he said, leaning across to kiss her, reciprocated keenly. "I know you've spent a lot of your life alone or feeling alone. I know what it's like to have a family around me every day of the week that I can go to about anything I like, but you _aren't_ alone any more".

"I know" she whispered in response, still feeling his palm on her cheek. She was so proud of him, finding someone at last who shared her view on the world, wanting to support him, wanting to share his life. Those occasions where she had seen him on duty, smart in his uniform, her heart had practically burst from her chest. That was why she told Mater about him in that last letter, innocently believing that Mater would be happy. "All I want is you. Nothing more, nothing less and I promise that".

As the words fell from her mouth she had no idea the storm that was brewing a few hundred miles away.


	8. Chapter 8

She hadn't seen him for a week. One whole week and it felt like years.

Chummy knew he was on nights so really wasn't expecting him to simply turn up but there was usually at least once he would find himself at Nonnatus in the middle of the night begging a cup of tea or to dry off from the ever present East End early hours rain. She couldn't really say it was anything more than sheer co-incidence as their own night calls had been far too frequent, but no-one had mentioned he had turned up and his absence had been noted.

Still though, tonight was already long arranged even though Peter had said it was a 'surprise' where they were going. Chummy never really liked surprises as they were usually followed by enforced enthusiasm when she would rather be tucked up on a comfortable chair with her sewing rather than fixing a grin on her face as though she had rigor mortis and forcing herself to be interested. As much as she would like to be ignoring her fears and dive in, she also knew she could trust him that he wouldn't spring something horrific on her. This was Peter after all.

The last of the buttons done on her coat, she looked carefully out of the window as the rain battered the cobbles and sighed heavily. She was going to get drowned and stuck deep in her thoughts, Chummy didn't hear quiet footsteps behind her either.

"Is Constable Noakes collecting you nurse?" Sister Bernadette asked seeing the Nurse turn around; the Sister peeking out and seeing the raindrops cascading like a river down the window really quite glad she was not on call tonight too.

"No Sister" Chummy replied, smoothing her coat down. "He'll have been so busy this week. I promised I would walk up to him".

"I'd be cycling up if I were you" the Sister observed. "It will save you getting soaked to the skin?" She hesitated, realising quickly that wasn't correct. "Well perhaps not, but you will spend less time in the rain…" she concluded with a smile.

"I was thinking the very same" Chummy nodded in response. "One thinks one will".

So she cycled; her favourite mackintosh wrapped tight around her body and hood pulled down over her face as the rain swept around her as she sped up the main road, feeling the rain sting the backs of her hands and seep through her tights. Seeing the lights on at the very top of the house at Empson Street she smiled with relief. The rest of the house was in darkness and silently she was pleased. Chummy was still uncomfortable about dodging his landlady as she knew perfectly well where she wasn't meant to be these days and was still shocked that words had not been had at her obvious presence.

As she slipped off her bicycle she heard the front door open.

"I was watching out" Peter said, admittedly slightly out of breath from the run down four flights of stairs to greet her. "Here" he said, pulling a face as the rain hit his shoulders, "that can come inside". He took the bicycle off her and rolled it into the house, propping it up in the hallway as she followed pulling her hood off her hair. "It'll get even more soaked if you leave it out! Fred will be having words with you if you get it rusty…."

Chummy felt the change in temperature in the house as he closed the door behind her. "So where are we going?" she asked, half wondering why he didn't have his coat or shoes on and why he was now locking the front door again if they were going out; even in this weather.

"Nowhere" he replied with a smile. "Well, somewhere but nowhere". She looked at him confused and felt her hand being taken up. "Come on" he said not letting her respond and pulling her up the stairs.

Chummy watched in abject silence as he pushed the door to the attics open and she could smell food as it permeated across the room and immediately she wondered what was going on, unnerved slightly if this was the 'surprise' as she really didn't know what to make of this development.

"I er…" Peter began closing the door quickly behind her. "Well, I just thought we could have supper here" he said, looking at her anxiously as she saw the table over in the corner covered over with a neatly ironed white cloth and two candles flickering in the low light. "For a change".

He had mulled it over for days; wondering whether he was being too forward but encouraged by his mother words _-'Stop witterin' an' just bloody arrange it wiv ve girl. She don't bite…'_ – Peter had decided to take the plunge and this was indeed the surprise.

"You cooked?" she asked quickly, feeling him take her soaking wet coat from her shoulders.

He cleared his throat. "Well not really. Little help from Mum".

"Your Mum did this?" She was still incredulous that someone would do something like this just for her turning to see him hanging her coat up on the back of the door.

"My idea. She cooked it" Peter replied. He was at least half right.

Chummy felt a hand in her back and she walked to sit down at the table, smiling to herself as she watched the flames for a second and heard him in the kitchen as he brought the food that had been warming in the oven, laying it carefully down in front of her. Her stomach grumbled at the smell of beef and vegetables as they permeated to her nose. "Thank you" she smiled as he shot off again to the kitchen, turning the plate a quarter so it was neatly in the middle of the place mat.

Peter was in two minds about wine. He knew she barely drank; an extremely diluted gin and lemonade was all he had seen her drink before but when he had wandered over to the off-license yesterday it seemed a good idea at the time. Having had a fight with the corkscrew in the kitchen, he reappeared.

"Half a glass" Chummy said immediately, seeing him nod as he poured precisely what she asked. She'd only ever tasted red wine once or twice before and it had never been in the company of a man.

They settled into the meal and conversation; her half glass refilled several times, only of her own asking and their discussion became animated as they moved from topic to topic and eventually onto toffee sponge – her particularly favourite for a treat – although she could feel the wine swimming around her in veins. She had taken the almost empty bottle to read the label; recognising the name but she was no connoisseur when it came to the fermented grape so it meant little.

"My guardian used to drink Claret" she began, putting the bottle down back between the two candles that were now wilting as the evening wore on. "She'd let me have a little sip at Christmas; just a touch. Pa would have had her hung, drawn and quartered for it if he knew! He'd be hanging you if he could see me now!" It wasn't meant in any way other than a joke but she didn't realise that Peter could have taken it the very wrong way.

"So you've never been drunk?" Peter asked. He would describe himself by now as 'tipsy' but there had been nights out (and for that nights in) that had been far worse for the demon drink but tonight he knew he had to keep his wits about him for fear of doing something that in the grand scheme of things would be really rather stupid.

Chummy shook her head. "Mater never allowed alcohol mostly and when she did, it was one glass at a wedding, but one never really developed a taste for it. I think she thought I'd get taken advantage of…" Quite innocently intended, but the comment left itself hanging in the air as their eyes met over the table. Boundaries had been passed between them and it still niggled him, even when stone cold sober, that he was taking advantage of her. She'd been a willing participant but he had no intentions of pushing her. "Trouble was, no-one would have their wicked way with me - merry or not!" she added with a self-conscious laugh, putting the glass to her lips again and eyes flashing up to him to see if he would comment.

Peter really didn't know what to say though without giving himself away so he decided to say nothing except suggest that they retired to the settee.

She followed with a smile trying to push away that slightly woozy feeling as she stood up, fingertips steadying her against the tablecloth as she walked. They relaxed into the cushions, a welcome arm around her shoulder and for a moment just sat in silence. Chummy looked up and caught his eye.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly seeing her nod. "Good", he concluded, fingers ghosting through the hair at the back of her neck and her skin was tingling. Whether it was wine or _something else_ she really wasn't sure. Conversation flowed smoothly about anything and everything and before both knew it; the bottle of wine he had purchased was dry. Peter took her empty glass off her, taking a quick look at the clock. She had become lighter in spirit, more talkative and by her own admission, felt really rather more relaxed.

Peter yawned. "Sorry" he said from behind his hand.

"Don't be" she replied, fighting following him. "One imagines you've had a long week".

"I have" he responded dolefully knowing what he had seen on the clock face. "But let's get you home and I can get to bed".

Peter hauled himself from his seat, the room spinning for a moment as he straightened up. Pulling the curtains aside on the small window he could barely see out. "It's tipping down still" he said, looking back to where she was still seated. "And it's nearly quarter to ten".

He heard her sigh. "Curfew" she whispered, Peter easily picking up the sadness in her voice. "One can't say one wants to go" she enunciated succinctly.

He walked back across and sat down beside her again, realising he hadn't quite factored in the detail that their route back to Nonnatus was by bicycle and he was not sure she could manage it. "I don't want you to go either. Not really".

She was frowning now. "One can't go back yet anyway". She meant the fact that it would be very obvious she had been drinking; entirely unsure she could cycle in a straight line. Chummy wasn't even sure she could be standing up, let alone walk.

"And if I send you back like that Sister Julienne will string me up". He thought for a second. She could stay here; he would sleep on the settee or the floor and let her have the bed. Better he have the settee as even though both were tired to the bone, there was far too much temptation at hand – quite literally – and she had had too much to drink.

"I just want to go to sleep" she continued. Her entire body felt weak, limp and loose.

"I'll telephone Nonnatus and tell Sister Julienne you are staying here then", Peter decided. It was either that or quite frankly take the grim trip back there and he really didn't want to.

"What will you say?" she asked nervously.

"I'll just say you are unwell and I don't think its good for you to be cycling back in the rain as you got soaked on the way here as it is" he replied, holding tight onto her hands. "Camilla, we…" he began. "You know how serious I take us. You and me". He swallowed carefully. "I'm not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Especially as you've had a fair share of that wine too and it would be wrong to...well take advantage of that fact".

She smiled. She wasn't sure whether she was drunk or not but all warm inside and entirely unsure whether the muscles in her legs could hold her up, she felt a kiss on her cheek. "Bedroom's that door and bathroom's that one" he said gesturing towards two doors to their collective left. "Borrow my toothbrush and flannel and go to bed. If you want to sleep, sleep and if Sister Julienne is upset; any blame is mine to shoulder".

She nodded carefully as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Why she felt like crying, she didn't know. Perhaps it was the combination of the warmth in the room, the wine or the fact that she had full well realised that he could indeed have _taken advantage_ of the situation; but he didn't. ' _He must care so much for me'_ she thought, blinking quickly so he wouldn't see the dampness in her eyes although when she heard the front door close, she would admit to a tear escaping as she stood up to take herself to bed, surprisingly not damaging herself or any object on the way through as she wobbled along.

Mission complete, Peter crept into his bedroom, finding her under the covers, a bare shoulder peeking out from underneath the sheets. He'd taken his shoes off deliberately so he could walk quietly over to fetch a pair of pyjamas and the spare blankets from the top shelf of the wardrobe to settle down in the sitting room. Carefully, in the dark, he prised open the wardrobe, glancing quickly back to see if he had disturbed her and finding her unmoved. The door squeaked as he closed it again, blankets in his arms and about to depart.

"Peter?"

"Sorry" he replied, turning properly to see she had begun to sit up in bed. "Forgot that hinge needs some oil".

He was just about to walk out when she spoke again. "Stay here?" she asked. Her voice was quiet and she couldn't see – with no glasses and in the dark – that he was frowning.

"Do you want me to?" he asked, feeling a gulf open up between him and the six rather easy steps it would take him to walk over to sit on the bed beside her.

"I'd like you to…to…to come to bed and just let me fall asleep with you".

Peter's shoulders dropped; not realising how tense he had been. "If you want me to".

"I do".

There was nothing particular in the air, even though she knew full well that she couldn't say no to him, but she felt comforted by the fact – as he walked around getting changed – that all he seemed to have on his mind was sleep too. The fact she could hear him yawning again in the bathroom when he brushed his teeth told her all she needed to know.

She closed her eyes, hearing the bathroom light click off and the bedroom door close. Chummy felt the bed dip as he got in. "I can still sleep on the floor you know".

"I don't want you to". He didn't miss she sounded so melancholy; half wondering if it was her truly talking or the after effects of the wine.

She turned over and pulled him closer, wrapping her arm around his waist as his arm automatically went round her shoulders. Hesitantly he ran the palm of his hand across her skin and felt her breath deeply, willing his eyes to close. She had sobered up a little – well felt more stable now she was lying down – and burrowed closer, pushing her knee between his to make herself comfortable. It struck him immediately how well she fitted into his side even if he had found out through her drunkeness.

"What did Sister Julienne say?" she asked, suddenly remembering where he had been twenty minutes or so ago.

"She just said that there was no problem, that it was a horrible night she was more concerned about you cycling around Poplar and she was glad you were safe with me" he replied. That was the sum total of his conversation and the Sister had truly not objected. "Camilla?"

"Hmm?" He heard from his shoulder, her voice drowsy.

"Can I kiss you goodnight?"

Chummy raised her head, propping her chin on his chest. A slight smile played on her face, even though her eyes were closing. "Of course you can". Before he could move, she shifted up so she was leaning over him. "You don't have to ask any more Peter. I'm in your bed after all. In fact, think we might be beyond asking if you are thinking of the truth".

"Not my point" he smiled, but not really wanting to go into that this time of night. "We've both been drinking…."

"But that certainly doesn't mean that one has completely lost ones rational faculties….." She leant down and kissed him, tasting that red wine and toothpaste in combination. "Or mean I don't know what I'm doing or what choices I make". She felt him smile underneath a second kiss. "One does appreciate one is…. merry", she began. "But I know where I am and know I am here under my own free will….but one does have to say that that the evening has been somewhat soporific".

"Settle down then" Peter replied. Just having her close, tucked tight into his side and arm wrapped around his waist was all he needed right then and there.

'Til another day that was.


End file.
